


Drunk on You

by Kyra_Bane



Series: Kinktober 2020 [The Old Guard] [17]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Drunk Sex, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Mentioned Andy | Andromache of Scythia, Mentioned Nile Freeman, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:15:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27327169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyra_Bane/pseuds/Kyra_Bane
Summary: They can get drunk and sometimes, they do. For Joe and Nicky, it often leads here.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Kinktober 2020 [The Old Guard] [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930153
Comments: 7
Kudos: 182





	Drunk on You

**Author's Note:**

> W E L L i didn't get all my fics done in october because it was shockingly busy (like moreso than i expected) but hey it's nanowrimo so i am BACK and READY TO GO
> 
> (also we're locked down again here so uh i am staying inside and supergluing myself to my laptop i guess)
> 
> anyway this is kinktober prompt 16: drunk sex, for anonymous - a short one that was supposed to just be pwp, no angst just cute fluffy feelings for these cute fluffy boys

One of the first questions Nile asked, after joining them, after all the drama was over, was whether they could still get drunk.

Nicky figured she’d seen Andy drinking vodka like it was water and explained that yes, they could, but usually nowadays they’re cut off far before then and he wouldn’t like her to visit a bar where the staff _wouldn’t_ cut her off.

It takes a lot of alcohol, is the thing.

Well, not so much for Andy anymore – though that appears to be the one thing they haven’t had to warn her about.

So it’s a rare event that any of them are drunk, let alone more than one of them, and yet Joe and Nicky have managed to find exactly one of those bars Nicky warned Nile not to visit and are still drunk as they spill back into the safehouse, Joe doing his best to determinedly tug Nicky’s shirt out of his pants.

Nicky swings the door open too wide and they both laugh when it hits the wall behind it with an ominous crash. Joe throws it closed again without looking and then latches himself to the back of Nicky’s neck with his teeth. Nicky sighs.

Everything feels… different, like this. Some sensations are dulled, like Joe’s fingers on his stomach, but then maybe that’s because he can’t focus on anything but the wet heat of Joe’s tongue on his skin. Nicky grabs Joe’s hands, tugs them higher up, until Joe thumbs his nipples.

“Bed, we should find a bed!” Joe says suddenly, like it’s the best idea he’s ever had.

Actually, Nicky thinks it might be.

They stumble through the apartment, managing to knock something – Nicky doesn’t bother to look – off a side table, which only serves to make them both giggle again. Nicky pushes Joe up against the bedroom door, kisses him messily, and Joe melts against him, his fingers slow and clumsy on Nicky’s belt. Nicky knows neither of them are, already, as drunk as they were when they left the bar, but he doesn’t much care.

“Bed,” he says against Joe’s lips and Joe pulls away, looks at Nicky like he’s the only thing in the world – which maybe he is the only thing in _Joe’s_ world, right now – and nods vigorously.

Nicky tumbles onto the bed first, turning in time to see Joe tug his t-shirt over his head. His mouth goes dry. He’s never seen anyone more beautiful than Joe, he’s certain, he thinks if they hadn’t met in the heat of battle he might have mistaken Joe for an angel, and then Joe growls, climbs on top of him and Nicky realises he’s been talking, blabbering his thoughts out in Italian or Arabic or maybe even both.

Joe kisses him, now, with a fierce intensity, and they’re pressed against each other, rolling their hips together. Nicky wants to fuck him, wants to be fucked, wants to touch Joe everywhere he can reach, and Joe tears his mouth away, struggling with Nicky’s t-shirt. They get it off, between them, and then Nicky manages his own belt buckle as Joe tries to suck a mark into his throat.

Nicky’s working on his zipper when Joe whines.

“What is it?” he asks. He sounds a lot more sober, but he isn’t certain he is.

“I never get to leave a mark on you,” Joe says. Nicky smiles. It isn’t something either of them usually care about, but sometimes he wants to, as well. He wants to right now. He knows it’s obvious to anyone with eyes what they mean to one another but he wants to show it off, show _Joe_ off.

“I know, tesoro,” Nicky says. Joe presses where he just marked up and it’s still sensitive enough that Nicky hisses.

“And we are beginning to sober up,” Joe says. His hand worms its way into Nicky’s jeans, clever fingers wrapping around his cock.

“I don’t much mind that,” Nicky says. He noses the spot under Joe’s ear, tongue flicking out to taste when Joe squeezes him. “What do you want?”

Joe laughs, turns his head to kiss Nicky again. He’s still a little uncoordinated but his hand is tight around Nicky’s cock, the other warm against his ribs. Nicky arches up into his touch – forget what he thought earlier, now the only thing he can think of are Joe’s hands on him and he wants so much more.

They part and, between them, get Nicky’s jeans and shoes off, and then Joe kisses his hip, licks down to his balls, and Nicky flexes his hands because he wants to touch, as well.

Joe licks a stripe up Nicky’s cock and Nicky groans, a sound that would usually be too loud, but he doesn’t care here, still just the right side of tipsy and there’s no one around to hear them. Joe grins at him but before he can do anything else, Nicky pulls him up and rolls them over.

“I want all of you,” he whines. There’s so much to choose from, too much, and he really does want _all_ of it, no matter how impractical that might seem.

Joe kisses him again, grabs his ass to bring their hips together. He’s still wearing his own jeans and Nicky hisses at the feeling of the denim against his skin. He tears at the fastenings. He wants Joe’s skin, not this.

Joe wriggles out of Nicky’s grip to get his own jeans off and then they’re lying side by side again, facing each other. The urgency hasn’t gone away, not exactly, but it’s tempered when Nicky runs his fingers over Joe’s face, careful not to press too hard. Joe smiles at him, and those crinkles at the corners of his eyes just _fascinate_ Nicky – he wishes he could write his own poems about them, about the way they tell him just what Joe is smiling at, exactly what his love is thinking – and then Joe’s kissing him again, murmuring into his mouth.

“What?” Nicky asks, pulling back, “What?”

“You think I do not know exactly what you think of me?” Joe says and he’s moving closer, throws one leg over Nicky’s hip. Their cocks bump and Nicky gasps but Joe’s looking at him with such intensity, his eyes still flushed too bright, that he can’t look away. “Even Andy cannot read you as I do, hayati. I feel the weight of your love in every look, the strength of your desire, the power of your regard–”

Nicky kisses him as much because if Joe keeps talking he thinks his heart will float right out of him as because he wants a moment of distraction, a moment where he can get his hand around both of them. He manages it and Joe’s gasp is his reward, his low, dark chuckle a chaser that sinks down into his bones. Joe mouths along his jaw as Nicky strokes them both, and there’s no point in being slow, no need for finesse; they romance each other all the time and now, Nicky knows, they both just need to touch and be close and feel.

After all, he does know that Joe reads him better than any other person in any room. It goes both ways. Joe smiles easily but it does not mean he wears those smiles for everyone and it does not, in fact, mean that they are always true. They are both old and have lived and are more adept at hiding parts of themselves than most people in their situation would be, besides.

Joe groans against Nicky’s throat when Nicky tightens his grip. They’re both leaking pre-come and it makes his hand slide more easily, which in turn makes Joe buck his hips when Nicky reaches the head. Nicky slides his free hand through Joe’s curls, tugging a little just to make Joe look at him.

He studies Joe’s face for a moment, exaggerating it, even though he already knows.

“You’re close.”

They’re sober now, Nicky thinks, or he is anyway. It’s lost none of its intensity. Joe smiles, squeezes his eyes shut.

“Yes,” he murmurs.

Nicky kisses him and he’s moving his hips too, now, Joe’s fingers pressing firmly into his skin, and they probably won’t go again tonight but Nicky thinks he might fuck Joe in the morning, slowly, lazily, take hours opening him up, the way they both like.

For now, his pleasure crests and he follows it with a low moan, and Joe is beside him, spilling not half a second later. Nicky lets out a heavy breath and takes his hand off their cocks.

They lay there for a moment, before Joe turns and throws an arm across Nicky’s chest, pressing into his side. He kisses Nicky’s shoulder, then his neck, and Nicky turns to pull him even closer.

“At least we don’t get hangovers,” Joe says, and Nicky notes that they both smell like booze and sex, but he doesn’t really care.

“True.” Still, while he wonders what it would be like to stay at the same level of inebriation throughout sex, he prefers this. Joe’s never really known it any other way – and Nicky thinks, somewhat morbidly, that maybe they will both experience hangovers again, someday.

“You’re already off somewhere,” Joe says, but he’s not chiding. He kisses Nicky firmly, then gets to his feet. He stretches, showing off just a little, and Nicky props himself up on his elbows to watch.

Joe grins. “Shower,” he says and from anyone else it might be a question but he has that glint in his eye that means the night is long from over.

What else is Nicky supposed to do? “After you,” he says and Joe laughs, again, before leading his love to the bathroom.


End file.
